


The Blue Light Effect

by LaikaOfTheValley, TheInfamousThief



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games)
Genre: M/M, Modern AU, Sexting, This is part of a larger Au that i will actually write at one point., Varrics nickname for my hawke is stitches, actor Hawke, add more as i go along, bouncer Fenris, but ill make sure to let you know in the beginning description before hand, except that there is still magic and elves and shit, i..really don't know what to tag, just general shennanigans, seeing as he is so accident prone, some chapters will be a/o/b, some one really needs to take a garrets phone away, that way ya know you dint end up reading anything you don't wanna
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-24
Updated: 2016-03-24
Packaged: 2018-05-28 00:22:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,365
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6306289
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LaikaOfTheValley/pseuds/LaikaOfTheValley, https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheInfamousThief/pseuds/TheInfamousThief
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hawke really needs to look at the name before he sends the text.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Blue Light Effect

**Author's Note:**

> Alrighty! So this is really just some funny scenarios that me and my beloved came up with for our modern au.  
> I listened to way to many dirty songs just so I could figure out how to right this, went to some dark places.

Varric decided that early morning texts were the worst things in the world. Usually a melancholy tale on how someone lost someone dear, or that his best friend got into a car accident and they didn’t know if he was going to make it, things like that.

Or they were absolutely hilarious drunk texts from the group of merry misfits that he was a part of. Some stating how much they loved him and that no he didn’t understand, they really loved him. Or sad blubbering stories on how Isabela ate the last of the guacamole. Anders is still trying to live that one down. And he could tell you, on this particular morning, he really, really wished it was a drunken message from Anders. Really wished it was.

He couldn’t recall how early the text had come - far too early for anyone to be texting if you ask him - but he was awoken by the loud chorus of Living on a Prayer echoing threw his room. The ringtone that Hawke had demanded Varric set for him. With a loud groan the dwarf's hand slowly stretched out from the mound of blankets he had buried himself under, hand groping about for that damn phone.

“Maker, this better be good.” he grumbled one hand rubbing at his eye while the other grabbed the phone bringing it under the blanket pile with his, thumb moving easily over screen unlocking the phone and turning the damn music off.  
he blinked a few times, trying to get his eyes to focus better on his friend message, brows knitting in confusion as he noticed it was a YouTube link and a winky face emoticon.

”I swear, Hawke, if this is another video of Mabari puppies sneezing, I’m personally gonna kick your hairy ass.” He grumbled clicking the link, waiting for the inevitable video of wrinkly sneezing puppies.

He waited a few moments, confused as music began playing instead. It only took Varric a few moments for him to realize that this was, in fact, a dirty song, and not puppies. A very dirty song. A very dirty song sent to him by his best friend. As quickly as he could he backed out of the app, quickly sending off a response to the other, wondering what the fuck just happened.

>  To: Stitches  
>  Text: _What the actual fuck Hawke? We may need to set a limit on what best friends share with one another._

It only took a moment to get a response back.

>  From: Stitches  
>  Text: _What do u mean?_

Varric raised an eyebrow, quickly typing back:

>  To: Stitches  
>  Text: _Bang my box?_

Again, it only took a moment to get a response:

> From:Stitches  
>  Text: _oh shit, ShIT NO THAT WASN’T SUPPOSED TO GO TO You_
> 
> To: Stitches  
>  Text: _Dare I ask who it was actually for_?

Varric sent the text, now completely awake. Andraste's tits, he couldn’t go one morning with out something weird happening, could he? What happened to just owning a bar and writing stories? The least weird things he could think of! What happened to that life?

  
He looked back down at his phone as it buzzed to life

> From: Stitches  
>  Text: _NO! NO THE FACT YOU KNOW I LISTENED TO THAT IS ENOUGH_

Varric snorted. Well, whoever that was intended for was defiantly in for...something later.

> To: Stitches  
>  Text: _Do you have some things you need to work out with someone bud?_
> 
> From:Stitches  
>  Text: _Maker, no. Just. Pretend you don’t know this about me._

At this, Varric laughed out loud, reading over the text again. This was by far the most awkward way he has ever woken up; it’s not every day your best friend accidentally serenades you with a sex song. But this was definitely better than the guacamole incident. Maybe Anders was free from that curse now, this was _gold._

> To: Stitches  
>  Text: _Are you sure? You wouldn't send that song to just anyone…Or at least, I hope you wouldn't._
> 
> From: Stitches  
>  Text: _Varric plz. You won’t like my answer._

At that text Varric narrows his eyes at the screen brain running through at least two scenarios of what that could possibly mean. May as well pry it outta him, see if his suspicions were correct.

> To: Stitches  
>  Text: _Hawke. I didn’t like the song you sent me already, so you may as well just tell me what's up._
> 
> From: Stitches  
>  Text:  _...You really won’t like who it is._

He did it, didn’t he? Even after Hawke whet and told him that he was done banging his employees, and that he would never ever be the reason his bouncers quit again. He when and did it…again. With a grumble Varric typed back, still wanting Hawke to at least _admit it_ before he said something.

> To: Stitches  
>  Text: _Look Hawke, unless it’s Bianca, I think I can handle whoever’s box it is you want to bang._

This time it took his phone a few minutes to light up with Hawke's response. Maker's breath, he knew it. He just knew that the other was banging his bouncer.

> From: Stitches  
>  Text: _... It's Fenris._

Andraste’s sweet tits. He knew it! That’s it, he is _done_ hiring attractive broody bouncers. From now on, it was sunny and mildly attractive bouncers. That will keep the hairy asshole away.

> To: Stitches  
>  Text: _Andraste’s ass, Hawke._
> 
> From: Stitches  
>  Text: _We have been going out for a few months, he didn’t want to go completely out with it yet._

Varric snorted watching as another text rolled in:

> From: Stitches  
>  Text: _I’m sorry you had to see that side of me._

Yeah, Varric was sorry he had to see that side too. He really didn’t want to know what Hawke was doing with his bouncer. Again.

> To: Stitches  
>  Text: _Dating for a few months and you're sending each other dirty songs about how much you want to bang already._

He sent off the message, before typing back a quick afterthought.

> To: Stitches  
>  Text: _I can’t believe you're fucking my bouncer again._
> 
> From: Stitches  
>  Text: _Hey! This time it’s serious! I don’t send trashy songs to just anyone!_

Varric rolled his eyes at that. Yeah, sure he doesn't.

> To: Stitches  
>  Text: _How do I always manage to choose the bouncers that just so happen to be exactly your type?_

Varric made a face at the text he got back. Eugh, he should have expected what the other had to say.

> From: Stitches  
>  Text _: …Broody and can throw a man across the room? Mmmmmm...but, ah, yes I digress, it was my turn to send the dirty song…_
> 
> From: Stitches  
>  Text: _I need to get rid of one of the hearts in front of your name._

Varric dropped his phone for a moment, a hand coming up to pinch at the bridge of his nose. He would never win with this man. If he was lucky, Fenris would end up being The One and he would stop sleeping with his bar staff, because he _really_  couldn’t afford to find another bouncer every time Hawke rolled into town. Taking in a breath threw his nose, he lifted the phone up, quickly typing back:

> To: Stitches  
>  Text: _Right. And It’s my fault for hiring bouncers who can actually do their job. I’ll try to pick someone who can’t bench press you next time._
> 
> From: Stitches  
>  Text: _Thank you! I’m glad we understand one another!_

Varric was about to shut his phone off as he received yet another text:

> From: Stitches  
>  Text: _I’m sorry I broke the rule again. I’ll buy you coffee._

Ah yes. Apology coffee. That tended to be Hawke's go-to thing whenever he did this.

> To: Stitches  
>  Text: _It better be damn good coffee. Especially after I had to listen to that song._
> 
> From: Stitches  
>  Text: _It will be the best money can buy :-)_

With the last text received, Varric turned his phone off, tossing it to the other side of the bed before flopping back onto his pillows with a groan. Great. Now he was awake, felt awkward as hell and would possibly have to start looking for a new bouncer soon.

  
He really, _really_ hated early morning texts.


End file.
